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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877409">College, Coffee, and Monster Energy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandommess17/pseuds/multifandommess17'>multifandommess17</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Caffeine, Cas is a dork, College AU, Cute Banter, Dean being a disaster bi, M/M, Star Wars - Freeform, Tumbler Prompt, charlie being a supportive friend, if you haven’t watched those step on it, original trilogy spoilers, shamelessly fluffy, this has almost definitely been done before</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:27:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,970</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandommess17/pseuds/multifandommess17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester’s seat partner in his college’s 7am Statistics class seems to be a uptight geek boy, but it turns out he’s full of surprises.  And caffeine.  Like, a lot. </p><p>Based off that tumbler prompt from korrakun.  It’s an old one and I’m sure someone else has done it before, but. . . my passion for cute fluffiness apparently knows no bounds :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dorothy Baum/Charlie Bradbury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>College, Coffee, and Monster Energy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean only knew about three things about his seat partner in 7am Statistics </p><p>First, his name was Castiel. He’d introduced himself awkwardly after noticing Dean had missed a day of class and offered to send him his notes. Dean had awkwardly accepted instead of saying he didn’t care about the class, entered the name “Cas” into his phone, and gone on with his life. </p><p>Second, far as he could tell, Cas never missed a day of class. He was always at least five minutes early and in his seat before Dean even entered the building. And although Dean was absent at least half of the time, Cas always send him a scanned copy of his notes. </p><p>Third, Cas had the neatest goddamn handwriting he’d ever seen. It was like an art form. Dean, who’s illegible scrawls had been getting him in trouble since second grade, was in awe. He spent more time watching Cas write than watching the professor. </p><p>It was an indisputable truth in Dean’s mind that Cas was acing this class, and probably all of his others. His notes were easier to understand than the professor’s. This view of his new acquaintance was rock solid, until the midterms hit. </p><p>Dean’s uncaring, I’ll-just-wing-it attitude kept him from too much stress, but he’d watched his classmates descended into madness with mild amusement.  He’d noticed Cas seemed mostly immune to the mania, until one fateful day. </p><p>Dean actually showed up to class, a major accomplishment. Castiel came in just after him, 3 seconds before the bell. It was only after he sat down that Dean realized he was carrying a Starbucks and a Monster Energy drink with him as well. </p><p>Before he could speak,  Cas pulled a huge cup out of his backpack and poured both drinks in. Perhaps sensing Dean’s eyes on him, he turned to him.  Looked him dead in the eye. </p><p>“I’m going to die.”  he said. And then he chugged the entire concoction in one go. </p><p>Dean didn’t know what his face looked like right then, but it couldnt’ve been all that attractive.</p><p>“Dude? Uh. . . it can’t be that bad.” </p><p>“Yeah it can,” Cas shoots back. “Last night was my third all-nighter. I pass this class and all my other classes or die.  Or both. I’m not picky.”</p><p>Dean can only look at him with wide eyes. The class starts and Cas’ notes are nearly as neat as they always are, and Dean is in shock. </p><p>The class ends. Cas stands up and almost falls over. </p><p>“Dude. “ Dean says again. He makes a split second decision. “You have any other classes today?” </p><p>“3pm English.  But I gotta go to the library-“ </p><p>“Nope. You’re coming with me. My dorm’s like 3 minutes away; you can’t function like this!” </p><p>“Yes, I can.” </p><p>“Uh, no, Cas, you can’t. C’mon. My dorm doesn’t even smell weird. Or at least as weird as it could be. “ </p><p>“Dean-“ </p><p>“Cas. This isn’t a request.” </p><p>Defeated, Cas allows himself to be led to Dean’s dorm room by Dean’s arm, tight around his shoulders, mumbling math formulas and scientific names of body parts all the way.  Dean was getting concerned. </p><p>They reach Dean’s dorm. Dean barely has to shove Cas towards his bunk before Cas full-body flops onto the mattress, and with one more mumbled equation, he’s out for the count and dead to the world. Dean chuckles.  This is not how he thought his day would go when he’d woken up this morning.</p><p>He looks down at the sleeping man. In, y’know, a non-creepy way. His hair is dark and messy, and he’s only a couple inches shorter than Dean. He had a little bit of stubble going on- product of the tests, Dean is sure. It isn’t completely hiding his jaw- that jawline could cut glass. And his ass- </p><p>Dean stops himself. He gathers Cas’ books into a pile and puts it on the ground by the bottom of his bed. Throws away the large empty paper cup, puts a fallen pencil back into his bag- he’s got one clutched in his hand too, and Dean has to carefully pull it from his fingers as to not wake him up.  </p><p>He sighs. Better hit his own books, although several times he catches himself zoning out and staring in the general direction of his own bunk. </p><p>It genuinely pains Dean to wake Cas up at 2:50pm, but if he didn’t, he thinks Cas would hate him even more than he’s about to. </p><p>“Hey, buddy, get up!”  Dean whispers and shoves at his shoulder. “You said you had English at 3. . .” </p><p>“Go away, Michael. . .” Cas mutters and bats his hand away. It’s honestly adorable. Dean smiles. </p><p>“Not Michael.  You still wanna go to class?” </p><p>“. . . shit!” Cas says. He sits up suddenly, making Dean jump. </p><p>“You good?” </p><p>Cas looks at him blearily. “Time?” </p><p>“2:50. Ten minutes to English.”  </p><p>“Right. Yes. Why am I here?”  </p><p>“I brought you here after you almost fell over in Statistics this morning- remember?” </p><p>“Oh. Yes.”  Cas blinks. “I need to go” he adds suddenly. </p><p>Dean hands him his books. “Thanks,” Cas says. He blushes a little and speed walks out of the room. Dean’s tempted to follow him, to make sure he gets to the right building without passing out or getting hit by a bus, but that might be pushing it too far. </p><p>He’s surprised when the door to his dorm room bursts open an hour later. </p><p>Cas takes a breath like he wants to say something, then seems to change his mind. He flops face-first right back onto Dean’s bed. A bit awkward, as Dean is already on the bed.  Cas’ upper arm pressed against him and his wrist falls onto Dean’s knees, leaving his hand in dangerous territory. </p><p>Nevertheless, Dean waits five-ish minutes to move, to make sure he’s really asleep.  He also finds a spare blanket from the foot of his roommate Benny’s bed and drapes it over him. </p><p>Turns out, he is very deeply asleep, and remains so until past dinner time. Dean really doesn’t want to wake him, so he doesn’t. He wonders if Cas will wake up in the middle of the night and freak out.  He hopes not. Benny had planned on pulling an all-nighter himself at the library, so Dean just settles in his spinning desk chair to sleep and puts his feet up near Cas’ knees. It’s not the worst sleeping situation to be in. </p><p>Turns out Cas doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night. It’s about 9am before he even moves again. Ten minutes before he opens his eyes. </p><p>“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean quips.</p><p>“What-happened?” Cas blearily asks. </p><p>“You tell me. You came in here after your English class and just passed right back out. I didn’t wanna wake you up, man. You earned that sleep.”  </p><p>Cas has sat up by now. “What- day is it?” </p><p>“Friday. ‘Bout 9am. Why, you got a date?” </p><p>“Yeah. With the library. I slept a whole day and night?” </p><p>“Well, you got up for your English class.” </p><p>“I lost all that studying time?”</p><p>“Dude.” </p><p>Cas looks around like he’s just now processing where he is.  He looks at the blanket pooled across his lap, at Dean’s desk, the window, and finally Dean himself. With the sunlight shining in, Cas’ eyes are the brightest shade of blue Dean has ever seen. Like when the sun hits a spray container of Windex through the window you’re cleaning- which is a decidedly unromantic metaphor, but Dean’s never claimed to be a poet.  But his eyes are like those blue Christmas lights shaped like snowflakes wound around snowy porches, or a drop of iodine turning a potato blue in that one Chem experiment, or-</p><p>“Did you. . . let me sleep in your dorm- no, your BED- this whole time?”</p><p>“Sure,” says Dean, trying to keep it casual. “I wasn’t gonna wake you up again after three all nighters, man. That’s insane, and that’s coming from me.  That’s like- no, I can’t do mental math, but that’s like 60 straight hours awake, dude.”  </p><p>“72.  Although it probably ended up being a few more than that.”  Cas says. He still looks a little confused.  He squints at Dean. “Thank you?” </p><p>“No problem, man. Least I could do, after all your notes. They carried me through that class.” </p><p>“Oh.”  says Cas. He stands up and starts to gather his books. “Umm, thanks again for your-generosity, but I should go-“</p><p>“Nope. Not until you eat some breakfast. C’mon, I’ll walk you to the cafeteria.”  </p><p>Cas sighs, but gathers his books without complaint, save a little hesitation. </p><p>“Do you always act like people’s mothers?” </p><p>“Nah. You’re just special. Anyone who can be that self-possessed usually. . . yikes. Anyway, I basically raised my baby brother, ‘cause my mom died, so old habits, y’know?” </p><p>“Oh.”  Cas says.  “I’m sorry. About your mom.”  </p><p>“S’okay.  Happened a long time ago,” Dean says. </p><p>“What’s your brother’s name?” Cas asks next, searching for some topic of conversation. </p><p>Dean’s face brightens. “Sammy. Well, I call him Sammy. Everyone else calls him Sam.  He’s super smart, he’s gonna be a big shot lawyer. He’s a sophomore in high school this year. I didn’t wanna leave him, but my- sorry, Bobby-my adoptive father, I guess- insisted. . . I’m rambling.”  </p><p>“It’s fine,” says Cas. “It’s interesting.”  </p><p>By now Cas has grabbed a bagel and coffee, and Dean has a chocolate chip muffin. </p><p>“So. . .” Dean says. “Enough about me. You got siblings?” </p><p>“A ton.” says Cas dejectedly. “I like to pretend they don’t exist. Except Gabriel. He’s a few years older than me, and he’s nice, if you like dirty jokes and pranks. Those get pretty extreme.” </p><p>“Really?” says Dean. </p><p>The rest of breakfast passes with Cas telling stories of Gabriel’s legendary pranks, and Dean throws in a few Sam stories as well.  Dean learns that Cas isn’t in contact with any of his other siblings or his parents. He lets it go. </p><p>He’s surprised to look up at the clock and find an hour has passed. </p><p>“Shit. I have a class in 20 minutes.” </p><p>“Shit,” Cas echos. He suddenly looks shy. “Uhm. . . thanks for letting me crash in your room.” </p><p>“Anytime,” Dean says, and Cas looks like he can’t tell if he’s serious or not.  Honestly, Dean not sure either, so he just claps him on the shoulder and leaves the cafeteria.<br/>
***<br/>
The next Statistics class is comforting yet awkward. Cas asks about his engineering classes, Dean asks if he’s slept for more than an hour. Cas assures him that he has.  Dean watches Cas take notes. </p><p>“See you around, Cas,” Dean says at the end of class. </p><p>“Hopefully not in your bedroom,” says Cas, and Dean’s ears go red. </p><p>Their next meeting is in the library. </p><p>Dean does actually study- not as much as he should according to Benny and his nerd friend Kevin, but hey. And Bobby would kill him if he failed due to his own laziness. So he goes to the library.  </p><p>Cas is sitting alone at a table, books laid over about half.  There’s enough room for Dean, so he leans down over the other side and whispers, “This seat taken?” </p><p>Cas jumps. “Ah. Hello. No. Uhm-“ he starts to move his books closer to himself. </p><p>“You’re good,” Dean says, and opens his own.  </p><p>Not even five minutes later, Dean is bored out of his mind. He has to take Chem if he wants to get his engineering degree for some reason, but really?  When is he ever going to use this stuff? </p><p>And what the <i>hell<i> is a <i>polyatomic ion?<i></i></i></i></i></p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Hey, Cas.”  he whispers. Cas doesn’t move.  “Cas!”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas jumps again and Dean feels a little bad. “Do you know what a ‘polyatomic ion’ is?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas gives a little smile. “Intro to Chemistry?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean nods. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas gently slides out of his seat and into the one next to Dean. He pulls a blank piece of paper towards him and starts sketching a diagram. “It has to do with the electronegativity of the elemental ions that make it up. . .”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>About 45 minutes later, Dean’s stomach rumbles so loud it practically echoes through the library. Several people look up. Dean tries to control his blush. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Next to him, Cas can barely control his laughter, silently shaking with his fists over his mouth. It’s adorable, to be honest. One look at him and Dean has to do the same. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Dinner time?”  says Cas finally, wiping his eyes. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Uh, yeah!”  Dean says sarcastically and Cas has to work to control his laughter once more. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Care to join me?” Dean asks once Cas is done. It’s throwing caution to the winds, but what’s the worst that could happen?  Besides, it’s not like Dean’s asking him on a date. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas glances at his books, then looks back at Dean. “Sure,” he whispers, starting to gather his books. He catches the look on Dean’s face and grins.  “I can have fun, you know.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean can only shake his head in an answering smile.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Outside, it’s raining buckets. They were talking cats and dogs, grandma’s-scared-to-drive, pounding-on-the-roof-like-a-machine-gun type rain.  Dean can’t believe he didn’t hear it before. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas and Dean look at the rain from the covered entryway. They look back at each other. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I don’t have an umbrella,” Dean says. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Me either.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The rain keeps pouring. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Most rainstorms like this let up in a couple minutes. If we wait a little, it should get better.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Most?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The overhang isn’t huge, but it’s big enough for the two of them to stand comfortably. To Dean, it still feels confining. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“So. . .”  he starts. “You come here often?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas glares. Dean laughs. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“What’s your major?”  asks Cas after Dean has stopped laughing. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You’re not gonna answer my question?  Wow, rude.”  Dean says. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas rolls his eyes. “Nope.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Wo-ow.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas crosses his arms, but there’s a shadow of a smile on his face. “Major?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Mechanical engineering. You?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Mathematics.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean groans. “Really?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yes. It’s to become a blood spatter specialist.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“A what now?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“In forensics. A blood spatter specialist. They go to crime scenes and look at patterns and angles of impact of blood spatter to determine the weapon and approximate area where the victim was wounded- and even where on the body they were wounded, based on how high the blood dropped or even specific patterns- basically, um, it’s forensics stuff.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Seriously? That sounds- awesome.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas smiles. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“The one good thing a math degree is good for.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas frowns jokingly. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The rain taps out a beat. It seems to be slowing marginally. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“How is Sam?”  Cas asks. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The fact that Cas remembers Sam’s name does not escape Dean’s notice. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“He’s doing good, last I checked. And I check more often than I’d care to admit.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas smiles. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“He’s got some annoying teachers, but good grades and good friends, so other than that he seems to be livin’ the dream.  Already getting ads from colleges after his PSAT scores were released.”  He smiles again. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The rain is definitely slowing. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean claps Cas on the shoulder. “Think we can risk it now?  I’m in danger of starvation here.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Starvation, no. Malnutrition, yes.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Says the guy who pulled three all-nighters in a row and then passed out in my dorm just for freshman midterms.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas blushes. “On three.” he says, leaning into a dramatic runners lunge. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Seriously?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yes. One, two, three!”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The rain is cold, but Cas is warm by Dean’s side.<br/>
***<br/>
They plop their damp bags down in seats next to each other and get in the line. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“That was fun,” Cas says. “I haven’t played in the rain since I was little and my little brother Samandriel nearly got pneumonia.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean snorts. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The rest of dinner passes pleasantly. Cas doesn’t seem to have a taste in music, so Dean lectures him on the beauty of Led Zeppelin and AC/DC until Cas threatens to record him talking to listen to the next time he has insomnia. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean balls up his napkin and throws it in his face.<br/>
***<br/>
Dean heads down to dinner a few days later, and feels his heart leap in his chest when he spots a familiar head of dark, unruly hair. Not for the first time, he wonders at how he could’ve formed a bond with him so fast. He’d kinda assumed the guy was uptight for most of the year, but clearly anyone who would willingly consume that caffeine monstrosity was going to be interesting to talk to, and he’d found himself drawn to him. Cas has subtly moved into his categorization of “friends” faster than he could’ve imagined. He’s more excited than he should be to get a chance to talk to him again. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Luckily, Cas seems to be on the same page, and follows Dean to an empty table. He’s gotten a total of 11 hours of sleep since Dean last saw him. Dean counts that as a victory. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Hey!”  a friendly-sounding voice calls as they sit down together.  A girl dressed in bright colors with even brighter red, short, and curly hair half-sprints towards their table. “Hi, Cas!”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>She stops short. “I hope I’m not interrupting-“ </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You’re not,” Cas assures her. “Charlie, Dean. Dean, Charlie.  Friend of mine.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Charlie grins, and Dean can’t help but grin back.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Can I crash your party, boys?”  she asks, already pulling out a chair across from them. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Anyone wearing a Star Wars t-shirt is fine by me,” Dean says.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Another grin. “Favorite character?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Han.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Leia.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Nice.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Although R2-D2 is, like, a close second.” Charlie amends. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Same here!”  Dean says. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Charlie grins.  “Can you believe this loser here has never seen them?” she says, jerking a thumb towards Cas. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean actually gasps.  “Dude!”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas looks down. “Highly religious family.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Ah.”  Dean says.  “Well then, we are so watching them. Just marathon all of ‘em at once. I know you’ve got the stamina for it.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I’d like that,” Cas says.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“So. . .” says Charlie, taking a huge bite of her sandwich. “How’d you two meet?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“7am statistics,” they say in unison. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“He skips 68.4% of the classes,” Cas informs Charlie. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Charlie puts her hand on her heart in mock horror. “No!”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Okay, 70% is an exaggeration.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“It’s true. I’ve calculated.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“There is no way it’s sev- wait, you what?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas looks abashed. “It is a statistics class. . . good practice.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean shakes his head in disbelief. “Geek.”   </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas smirks. “Bold words coming from Mr. Star Wars over here.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean can’t formulate a good response to that. Charlie laughs. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas’ continuing smirk is triumphant. He almost defiantly eats a French fry, looking Dean right in the eye. There’s an unidentifiable sparkle in his blue, blue eyes.  They remind Dean of the blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers- blue raspberry was unquestionably the best flavor, and anyone who disagreed was a demon until proven otherwise- that he’d ‘fight’ Sam over (he made sure Sam always won).  Or like- like Bobby’s old favorite blue coffee mug that he’d passed down to Dean when he was 16, or that blue Lexus that Bobby had finally let him help fix up for his first job in the shop.  They look like- oh. They feel like home. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas dissolves into a little, happily embarrassed smile with a small snort, looking back down on his fries. Dean smiles back involuntarily. It probably looks way too- too adoring. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Oh. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Oh, shit.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Something’s shifted inside of him. Something- big.  Dean hurriedly stuffs his feelings down.  For later contemplation. Or maybe he’ll just pretend they don’t exist for the rest of his life.  He can’t think about it right now. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Or- shit.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He’s got a crush on Cas.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Real, bona fide, emotional-as-well-as-physical crush. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Shit. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The conversation moves on to other topics that Dean gladly, determinedly focuses on. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Later, Charlie zips up her hot pink sweatshirt, and Dean finally gets a good look at the pin on it.  His heart nearly stops. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It’s a rainbow flag. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Hey, I like your pin!” he bursts out before he can stop himself, accidentally cutting off Cas mid-sentence.  His ears go bright red. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>They look at him. “You do?”  Cas asks after a moment. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah!”  Dean says.  Holy- This could be good.  He might have a chance. Clearly, Charlie and Cas are good friends, so maybe- maybe, Cas isn’t straight?  It’s pretty unlikely that he’s homophobic at least, highly religious family or not. From what he knows about Charlie, Dean doesn’t think she would ever let Cas be her friend if he was, at least not without a broken nose and an immediate change of heart. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The pause has gotten too long. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You- uh. You think it comes in bi colors?” he adds belatedly with a wink despite his flaming face.  He hasn’t really done this- this coming-out thing much, but this must be a safe place. It has to be. It still feels strange and uncomfortable, though; this. . . need to justify a part of him.  It’s awkward and makes Dean’s stomach turn, but it probably will always be this way. He’d vowed to make his sexuality the part of his personality it deserves to be during college, and if rainbow-pin Charlie was the wrong person to confess to- if Cas-</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Charlie nods in understanding and holds out a fist for a fist bump. “Solidarity, dude.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding- hopefully subtlety- and solemnly bumps his fist against hers. “Totally.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“So, Dean. . . you know anything about Dorothy Baum over there?  Hear anything about which way or ways she swings?  I’m hopeful.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I haven’t, yet, uh, I don’t usually. . .”  he trails off. “But I’ll keep an ear open.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Charlie’s second understanding nod doesn’t miss a beat. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Act casual, but she’s behind you two tables down with the brown leather jacket, long brown hair in a bun, and a slamming booty.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean grins and looks subtly behind him. He doesn’t miss Charlie shooting a meaningful glance at a silent Cas, however. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He turns back to the table. “Definitely slamming.  Go get her, Tiger.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Charlie grins.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Uhm. . . I’m in solidarity, Dean. Just so. . . you know.”  Cas says.  “That was incredibly awkward. Hi, I’m Castiel, and I’m gay!”  Another awkward grin and a stare at the tabletop. “I am. . . very, very bad at this.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean laughs.  “Like I was much better?”  He restrains from pumping his fist into the air and holds it out for Cas to bump instead as well.  Cas does with a small, embarrassed smile, smoothing over the awkwardness.<br/>
***<br/>
It’s been two days since the Dinner of the Gays, and Dean has had time to process. Which is to say, his internal monologue has basically just been high-pitched screaming.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>God, he was a goner. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He likes Castiel. That much is clear. He likes him a lot, and not just for his looks- although they were, admittedly, flawless. He likes his personality, his manner of speaking, his ridiculously gorgeous handwriting, the way his nose crinkled when Dean stole a fry off his plate. He likes how he remembered Sam’s name and asked after him after one conversation, he likes his dry sarcasm, and dare he say adorable lack of pop-culture knowledge- although, admittedly, that was going to change if he had anything to do about it. He even likes his lack of definitive music taste and weird taste in coats and tendency to ramble on about complicated math formulas and the necessity of bees in the ecosystem. Even likes the determination/stubbornness that led him to stay awake for over 72 hours straight. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Screw it. He’s falling. He’s falling hard, and probably has been for a while without seeing it. And best of all, Cas not only swings his way, but it seems like he actually likes him too.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean walks into the next Statistics class 7 minutes early with sweaty palms and a new resolution.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas comes in 2 minutes later, like he always does- or almost always does, when he’s not on a caffeine binge. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Hello, Dean,” he says. “That’s three classes in a row you’ve come to.  Have you had a change of heart?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean gulps. He’s had a change of heart all right, but not in the way Cas means. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Maybe I just missed seeing your pretty face.”  There! Flirting, he thinks, although at this point it could just be mistaken for humor. Flirtatious humor, but either way, it’s a good line. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Damn. He hasn’t been this nervous around someone in- ages. Ever? </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas blushes, with a little smile. He busies himself with taking out his familiar materials for the class. Once he’s done, he just sits and looks toward the front of the class, but his chair is angled just slightly towards Dean. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A silence falls. It’s not uncomfortable, per say, but Dean feels like it’s charged. Electric, somehow. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas absentmindedly fiddles with the open belt of his trench coat. He’s doesn’t seem like he’s trying to avoid looking at Dean, but. . . man, Dean’s overthinking is really getting out of hand.  This has been a very rapid emotional rollercoaster for a normally mostly laid-back guy. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean’s never given his number to a guy before. It’s a daunting prospect: what if Cas rejects him?  What if he thinks this is going too fast?  What if he stops sending him Statistics notes?  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Well, it was just past midterms. It’s worth staking the Statistics notes. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Are you okay, Dean?” Cas asks suddenly, looking up into his eyes. “You look ill.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Nah. I’m fine.” says Dean. He has never felt less fine.  “Hey- Cas?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas is still looking straight at him. Well, hopefully not straight- Dean looks down a little wildly. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Uhh. . . I wondering if. . . I could give you my number?”  He starts fidgeting with the zipper on his leather jacket- decidedly uncool, but he can’t seem to stop. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Dean. . .” Cas says, and here it comes, he’s going to be rejected, he’s not good enough he’ll never be good enough- </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I have your number.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“What?” says Dean breathlessly, finally looking Cas in the eye. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas looks fondly, but only-slightly-patiently annoyed. “Dean. We exchanged numbers at the beginning of the year. For notes, remember?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Did he remem- oh God. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Oh, shit.” Dean says, and Cas bursts out laughing, but it doesn’t feel unkind. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Jesus, Cas- I’m so stupid, I’m sor-“ </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“However,” Cas continues, regaining his composure, “if you were trying to insinuate that you would like to ask me on a date. . .” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I. . . I would like that.  Greatly.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“It’s okay, I know- wait, yeah?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yes, Dean,” says Cas with a soft smile. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean doesn’t even know what to do.  Or react. Or how to function, really. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Uh- awesome!” He blurts out eventually. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas dissolves into embarrassed laughter again, and Dean can’t help but join. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I’m. . . not very experienced in this department, but I’ll do my best.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Me either,” Dean admits, looking down.  “Never really dated a guy before.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas nods. “Okay.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Okay. . . Um. Thursday night. Star Wars. My dorm. You know where it is.”  He winks even though his ears feel like they’re on fire with how red they are. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas blushes. “Perfect.”<br/>
***<br/>
Thursday night</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>There’s a knock on Dean’s door.  There’s only one person who would ever bother being this formal. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean opens the door to find a smiling Castiel, wearing a blue button down that matches his eyes (blue like the highlighter he’d used on yesterday’s statistics notes.  His eyes look as bright as that highlighter with excitement, too) and blue jeans. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He looks good. Like, really good. Dean feels underdressed even though he’s wearing almost the exact same thing, except his shirt is green. The color of his eyes. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Could it get more cheesy? </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It was Charlie who okay-ed his outfit. He’s starting to think Cas did the same. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He wonders if Cas’ hypothetical conversation with her had gone similar to his. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘Thanks, Charlie,’ he’d texted after her thumbs-up emoji after a picture of the outfit he was now wearing. He’d felt like a 13-year old girl, to be honest, but he was also glad to have a second opinion. Not that Cas would care about his clothes. Would he? </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The three bubbles had been up for a long time before her message popped up. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘I know I haven’t known him for super super long, but that’s not going to stop me from saying that if you hurt him I’m coming for you and punching your nose inside out. Someone’s got to.’</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>From what Dean knows about Cas, it does seem like Charlie may be the only one who will. And she’d actually follow through with the threat if necessary.  Not that he needs to hear it. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘If I hurt him, I’d do that to myself.’</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Delivered</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Read 3:45pm</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘Good.’</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘In all honesty, I think you two will be good for each other.’</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘He’s smiled more this week than I’ve ever seen.’</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘Anyway, good luck!’ </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean’s chest had gotten warm. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>‘Thanks, Charlie,’ he’d typed with a smile.<br/>
***<br/>
“So, what do you actually know about Star Wars?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Um. Charlie’s favorite character is a girl named Leia with big hair buns. Yours’ is some guy named Sean-“</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Han.  With an ‘h’.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Han. There are glowing swords, guns, blue robots and gold robots, a- large, human sized hairy thing, the name Skywalker, a completely non-aerodynamic space ship, and a man in a mask named Darth Vader who is on a surprising amount of adolescent lunchboxes for a villain.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean grins.  “That’s it?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah. Is that bad?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Dude,” Dean says, shaking his head, “this is going to be so much fun.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean watches Cas more than the movie, of course. Hopefully it’s subtle enough to not be creepy.  Watching Cas navigate this universe that’s like second nature to him is fascinating. Cas is fascinating.  Everything about Cas makes Dean want to learn more about him, learn everything about him. He’s- shit.  Dean’s toast. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Falling is a new sensation, even though he’s had a little to get used to it. Falling is a strange sensation. But it’s good- really, really good. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas cheers when they blow up the Death Star and laughs at Chewbacca.  He critiques the lightsaber fighting (he’d been a fencer in his younger years- who would have thought?), but admits it has a certain charm. By the end of the first movie, his favorite character is C3PO, to Dean’s surprise. A small debate ensues. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas also does not know that Darth Vader is Luke’s father or that Leia is his sister, which is clear after he calls Leia and Luke’s kiss in Episode V ‘cute.’  Dean tries desperately to control his face. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Luke reaches the Cloud City. Cas has declared that Yoda is a competitor to C3PO for favorite-character status, but he’s holding out to officially revise his decision. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean has never seen anyone actually shocked at the “I-am-your-father” scene since Sam was five years old. He cackles at the look on Cas’ face. Cas hits him with a pillow. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It’s not long into Episode VI that Dean attempts a terrible, terrible cliche. He fake-yawns and drops his arm behind Cas. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas turns to look at him like he’s trying to hide a smile. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Damn, Dean’s heart is pounding. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I’m pretty sure you just pulled one of the oldest romance tricks in the book.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Oh yeah?” Dean raises an eyebrow, though his stomach is tied in knots. “How sure?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I’m thinking. . . 80%.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Not 68.4?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Another <i>whack!<i> from Cas’ pillow. </i>
  </i>
</i></i></p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Nevertheless, Cas’ head ends up on Dean’s shoulder.  Dean’s pulse is off the charts. He hopes Cas can’t hear it somehow. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It’s still there by the time Luke goes back to Dagobah.  Cas is sad that Yoda dies, but agrees with Dean that it’s less sad due to his age.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And Leia is Luke’s sister.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Is anyone going to simply tell him he’s related to these people?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean laughs so hard Cas’ head gets severely jostled. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“I suppose it is an effective way to solve the ‘love triangle.’” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“And you thought they were cute together.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas wrinkles his nose.<br/>
***<br/>
The movie ends. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas’ head remains on Dean’s shoulder.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“That was a good ending.” Cas says. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah.  It’s happy.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Everyone deserves a happy ending.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You think?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas pauses. “Well. . . maybe not.  But I would say most.”  He pauses again. “This is too philosophical for this late at night.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean smirks. “Didn’t think that would matter to you.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“This late at night without caffeine.” Cas amends. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Fair.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Neither seems to want to move. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You think w-you’ll- get a happy ending?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas pulls his head up then, so he can look Dean in the eyes. “Yes. I think we will.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>They both look away in embarrassment.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“As much as I’d rather just fall asleep on these pillows. . .” Cas starts, “I should probably walk back to my dorm. People talk. . .”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean smiles.  “Sure.  Want me to walk you to your door, sir?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“More cliches? I’m shocked. Behind the macho-man exterior lies a chick-flick, romance novel junkie at heart.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Shut up,” Dean says, going red. Cas laughs, and Dean glances down at his lips involuntarily. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It’s not subtle. He cringes internally.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>This is. . . really good. He really, really likes Cas. He hasn’t felt his heart speed up and his palms sweat and his stomach tie into complicated twisting knots like this in. . . a long time. Ever, maybe. He doesn’t want to mess this up. Cas is too important.  Too special. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas pauses at the door. He fidgets with the bottom of his shirt. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Dean, I believe there is something in ‘dating etiquette’ on not moving too fast on the first date.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean is not sure where this is going. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“However, I am choosing to ignore those rules.  And I would like you to kiss me.  If you want to.” He looks. . . terrified, to be honest. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And all Dean can do is smile.  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Well, Cas, you could’ve just asked.” he says, trying to make the tension leave the room. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas’ head tilts with a small, slightly nervous, slightly playful smile. “Is that not what I just did?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It’s the cutest goddamn thing Dean has seen in his life. Cuter than chubby babies, week-old kittens, Sam’s puppy dog eyes- hell, cuter than actual puppies. Pug puppies. Dean never thought he’d see the day. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“So, will you kiss me?” Cas asks then, smiling back at him. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
    <i>And so, of course, Dean does.</i><br/>
***<br/>
One semester later
  
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Nope!” Dean says.  He snatches the can of Monster Energy out of his boyfriend’s hands. “You had better not have been about to do what I think you were trying to do.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Deeeeean.”  Cas says, trying to grab the can without also spilling his coffee, but Dean’s holding it above his head and out of reach. “Finals!”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“No.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Please?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“No. Get some sleep like a normal person.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“No one sleeps like a normal person. This is college.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You are not pulling another all-nighter. Four hours sleep minimum.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“That is not a technically normal amount of sleep, Dean.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“It is compared to everyone else on this campus, Cas.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas stomps his foot. Legitimately. Dean snorts. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“As entertaining as this is,” Charlie says, bouncing into the room. “Dean has a point.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas comically pouts at her. “You’re not even supposed to be in here!” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You say that every time I sneak into your dorms. Be gay do crimes, bitches.  It was on my way, and I wanted to tell you - Dorothy and I are going to the burger place down the street on Tuesday at 5 after finals. Down for a double date?”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Hell yeah,” Dean says. “Cas here will have earned that break.” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas frowns. “You have too, Dean.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Dean smiles. “Point is-yeah.  You’re on.”  </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cas takes advantage of the distraction to try and get his Monster Energy back. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Aaagh! Be satisfied with your Starbucks, caffeine demon!” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Benny comes in from behind Charlie. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Five bucks says Castiel pulls three in a row again.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Charlie smiles. “No bet. Mama Bear here has got it covered.”</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I tried to figure out how to do italics, it didn’t really work. Or it sort of did. . . formatting is confusing. Oops.  Hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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